I love it here. There is nothing quite like one’s own home. We took our houses for granted before our seven years of renting, living with friends, and apartment living. We are now home.
I am less concerned about production and more about enjoyment in my wild garden. I planted dahlias. I have never had them before. They are so lovely, painting the front yard vibrant, I believe I will be collecting more. So joyous they are.
We are eating out of our garden every day. Every year I learn. I planted way too many beets. I do not even care for beets. I tell you this every year yet they are my best crop! I did not leave enough room for the lawn mower to get between the rows and the weeds have created a scavenger hunt of sorts. Halloween orbs wait to be found among the corn. Potatoes peek over the tall weeds.
This is a new climate for me to be gardening in and it is all a sort of lovely experimentation. The land here is very generous despite my haphazard gardening. Of course Mother Earth’s sense of humor has followed me here. My planned pepper plants are doing so-so while the seeds that came loose during a windstorm from the ristras hanging on the porch are growing and even have peppers on them! The vegetables growing in the compost bin are doing quite well too.
The great sunflowers are a month ahead of what I am used to. They droop from their heavy bounty, but rather than gathering the heads we have let them be. For it is far more entertaining to watch squirrels perched ten feet high on the stalks and the flocks of birds that gather here. They will plant the next crop for me.
I threw out seeds for fall crops. I water. I eat. I ignore the wild weeds (some of them I eat). I watch the birds and the wildlife. The chickens and the squirrels share in fresh produce with us. It is lovely here. I am home.